Autumn stiffened. I was trying to figure out how best to answer, or if I should worry since Dad seemed fully on board, when she answered, “It’s our one-day anniversary.”
This time I got the satisfaction of his shock. When he slid his almost-knowing look my way, I wanted to pack up my wife and leave. “I don’t need to ponder good decisions,” I said almost defensively.
She tilted her face up toward me. Instead of wondering what kind of look she was giving me, I tightened my arm around her, dipped my head, and pressed a kiss to her mouth.
I caught her gasp and kept the kiss chaste when all I wanted to do was turn her fully into me and devour that sweet mouth. When I straightened, Dad was watching us, a wistful gleam in his eye that I immediately resented.
A small slice of empathy cut through the negative emotion. I’d been married a day, but Autumn was a real person. I knew she slept like she’d be out for days. I knew that her eyes rolled back when she liked the flavor of something. I knew she had a cat and a cozy house, the first place to make me think there really were homes out there where people could be happy. I knew she took the advice “dress for the job you want” seriously.
If something happened to her, I’d be sad. I’d mourn. Dad had lost his partner. The love of his life. But he’d also been a dad. And he’d failed me terribly.
“Tomorrow night, then?” He rubbed his handstogether. His knuckles were knobbier than they used to be. His shoulders a little more stooped. But his eyes were clear. Bright and lucid. “Is that too soon?”
“Tomorrow.” Better to get it over with, but also, I had to know if Dad could maintain this version of himself for more than a day. Perhaps we’d caught him between binges. It had been years since he’d claimed to start his sobriety journey, but I had doubts. Many of them remained. It’d take more than a ten-minute chat to banish them.
He winked at me. “You gonna talk it over with your wife, Giddy?”
“Don’t call me Giddy, Hank,” I growled.
He laughed, oblivious to my hatred of Mom’s nickname out of his mouth. “Sorry, boy.”
I cringed harder. Boy. His rampages went through my head.
Autumn rubbed my back again.
“Tomorrow,” he repeated. “Invite your family, Autumn.”
“Yes, of course.” She rested her hand between my shoulder blades. “I don’t want to come off as rude, but I want to make sure you know what you’re getting into. I have a big family. Just how many do you want to invite?”
“All of them.” He waved both hands in the air like he was shooing away a raccoon. “Don’t worry about space. I’ve got nothing to hide and it’s all going to be the Baileys’ soon.”
I jerked like his words were electricity. Wasn’t he starting to reconsider? I’d shown up with a wife. If this farce of a marriage didn’t work to win him over and get my mom’s land in my name, then I’d never forgive Dad.And there’d be nothing left in Bourbon Canyon that meant a damn thing to me.
Autumn’s gaze caressed over my face, and one simple question lingered in my head.
Are you sure there’d be nothing in this town that matters to you?
Autumn
As we were leaving the James ranch, my phone continued to buzz with messages from my friends checking on me. I kept telling them I was fine and that I was home already. Maybe they wanted to hear me say I forgave them, but my brain’s realty was taken up by the man next to me.
I was about to turn my phone off when it rang. Scarlett’s name popped up on the screen.
Shit.
Scarlett was Tate’s wife. She was a fourth-grade teacher at the elementary school, so my fellow travelers were also her friends and coworkers.
What had they told her?
Gideon glanced at me. My stomach did the same little wiggle it had the first time he’d gotten behind the wheel of my vehicle. I was a passenger princess, and it was a nice change.
“My sister-in-law,” I explained. The phone stopped, then started again. “Tate’s wife.”
His gaze went back to the road. “No time like the present.”
“I have to invite them to dinner tomorrow, after all.” My chuckle was a nervous chime.
I hadn’t been too worried about telling the news to Hank James. He’d been nothing but friendly around town, and whenever I had seen him, he’d been helping at a fundraising benefit or with some other town project that needed an extra pair of hands. Hank James liked my family, and I’d expected him to worry more about his son’s intentions. He had to know I was not Gideon’s type.
